Human Race
by Sammy's Missing Shoe
Summary: Evil trees? No, that's just stupid. But whatever it really is, something's killing people in the woods in a small-town, and it's up to our boys to figure it out- before they're next. (The story is way less cliche than this description, I promise.) Hurt!Sam, hurt!Dean, and plot-twists to come! Short and sweet little case-fic!
1. If It's an Eye for an Eye

**AN:** I started this piece before _Counting Bodies Like Sheep,_ and _Emperor's New Clothes,_ but it ended up becoming a back-burner type deal. Set in season two, sometime after _Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things._ Story and chapter titles come from a Three Days Grace song, _Human Race._

* * *

Damn Derek Adams. That stupid son of a bitch screwed up, and so Kennedy Miller had to stay behind and clean up his mess for him? God, she hated her job sometimes. And now- now she was going to miss the new _Doctor Who_ episode! And she was simply not willing to let Alice Walker tell her about it before she got her chance to watch it.

Stupid Alice, with her stupid, 'My child is on the honour roll' sticker adorned mini-van. Congratulations, Alice, your kid can add. Go tell someone who cares.

Begrudgingly, Kennedy decided to take a short-cut through the woods. Damn, she'd kill not to have vowed to walk to work as her New Year's resolution. Damn, stupid New Year's...

She trudged angrily through the forest, the leaves and branches crunching beneath her heels. This damn, stupid mud was going to ruin her new shoes!

Kennedy gave a huff as she slipped off her heels, clutching them tightly. She lived three damn blocks away, why hadn't she brought a different damn pair of shoes? Oh, great, now her muddy feet would dirty up her carpet. Damn mud!

The moderately cool forest floor underneath her feet sent goosebumps prickling through her body, and she shivered. She hugged herself to warm up, getting chills from more than just the woods.

At last, the row of houses was within her sight-line. But within one step, her foot caught onto something, and she landed face-first in the dirt. She fell with an angry screech, furiously digging pounding her fist onto the ground. She whipped her head around to see what she had tripped over, and huffed. Damn, stupid tree root!

As she brushed herself off and got back to her feet, she glared at the offending piece of nature, but froze completely when it suddenly _moved._

Kennedy let out a scream as the root pried itself from the confines of the earth it had been trapped under, and began to reach for her. She tried to run to the safety of her neighbourhood, but then the root snaked around her ankle, and dragged her back into that horrible place.

Her nails bent and cracked as she clawed at the forest floor, crying out screams of terror, and pleas for mercy.

Many heard, but none came.

As the screams continued, there was a small thump, as a lone high heel fell to the ground...

* * *

"Really, Sam?" Dean asked with one eyebrow raised. "Evil trees?"

"Hey, I'm just reading what the article says. Didn't say it was a completely reliable source." Sam said. "Besides, it did get one thing right. All these people showed up torn apart and beaten to death in the woods."

"But seriously, evil trees? That really what we've been reduced to?"

Sam simply shrugged, favouring his left side considering how his right hand was still encased in a cast. Stupid, crazy-ass zombie chick.

"Alright, I'm listening. Run me through it." Dean caved at last.

Smiling slightly at his little victory, Sam began his recount of their case so far. "So, started with a woman named Kennedy Miller. The entire neighbourhood heard her screaming, but nobody bothered to come help her."

"You-you freaking serious? Okay, they gotta be in on it or something."

"I'd like to believe that too, but then why would they have admitted to hearing her scream? As bad as it is, I think it's just a case of people being too self-centred to bother to help."

"That-that's terrible."

"Welcome to the human race, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel, now pissed as hell. "Keep going, I don't wanna hear about that anymore."

"Second vic, Charles Weston. Reported screams again, but people say that someone actually went out to help this time-"

"Thank God." Dean interrupted.

"And then," Sam continued, "They became victim umber three."

Oh... "Who was that?"

"Marty Elwood. After him, that's when teenagers started to go missing. Started going out on dares and stuff, and then one group went out together, and only one of 'em got out alive. That's how the evil tree theory came to life, according to the one that got away."

"Sounds like a pretty good witness to talk to, unless the kid's lying through their teeth."

"Her friends are dead, Dean. That much we're sure about. And as of now, she's the best lead we've got."

"Alright, fair enough. What's her name?"

"Amanda Ficus. Seventeen, and overtly traumatised."

"Just what every guy wants. You got an address?"

"We stop somewhere with wi-fi and I can get one."

"Diner up ahead. You find her address, and I'll get into the fed suit and order us some food, and then you can get changed."

"Sounds like a plan."

A few taps of a keyboard, a salad, a burger, and a few slices of pie later, and the boys were off to talk to their witness.

"So, Amanda, are you sure this a good time?" Sam attempted to comfort. "We know that this has got to be hard for you."

"You don't know crap." Amanda snapped suddenly, only to lower her head immediately after the remark. "S-sorry. It's just- my best friends... A-all of them."

"We're so sorry." Sam said sincerely.

"Would you mind telling us what you were even doing out in the woods in the first place?" Dean asked, more than willing to take the role of 'bad cop.'

"Being idiots." She admitted shamefully. "We heard about the murders, and we wanted to sneak into the forest and- yknow, try to freak each other out. It-it was stupid, I know that now."

"Can you tell us exactly what happened?"

Amanda scoffed. "Not sure you guys are gonna believe me."

"We just want to help." Sam said genuinely.

Hesitating, Amanda nervously twiddled her thumbs, but as last, she sighed. "We were hiking, an-and Bailey, m-my friend, started screaming. We all turned around an-and she was up in the air. Th-the tree was holding her by the ankle, and then it-" She closed her eyes, voice trembling as much as she was. "It stuck a branch through her stomach. W-we all started running, but-but the branches were everywhere. Th-they kept grabbing everyone, k-killing everyone, an-and they were screaming, crying, _begging-!"_

"Okay." Sam cut her off, able to tell that she was nearing hysteria as she recounted her horrific tale. "How did you get out, Amanda?"

Amanda took a deep breath, clearly an attempt to calm down. "It- th-the tree was distracted. I-I just managed to escape before it got to me." She laughed helplessly, wiping away a tear that had fallen. "You probably think I'm crazy now, huh? Crazy... and alone."

"Did you see anybody else in the forest?" Dean asked.

She just shook her head.

"You sure?" He probed a little further.

"It's not like I was looking that hard when I was running for my life while my friends were getting slaughtered." She snapped.

"S-sorry." Dean muttered.

"Would you say that it was maybe- unnaturally cold in the forest?" Sam asked.

"Are you making fun of me?!" She retorted.

"What?" Sam asked, voice squeaking a bit from how awkward he and the situation were becoming. "N-no, I-"

"We're done here." She stated, standing up and heading to the door, opening it for them.

Slightly embarrassed and guilty, the brother got up, and left her house.

"Thank you for you-"

 _SLAM._

"Time..." Sam finished awkwardly.

"Well, that went well." Said Dean.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Big help that was too. Now we've learned exactly-" He paused, as though in thought. "Nothing."

"Well, it's definitely got something to do with the tree."

"Thanks, Sam."

Sam huffed. "I'll do research back at the hotel, find out if there's any lore in the forest. See if anybody died in the woods, and if their spirit could be possessing the tree."

"Could be a witch." Dean suggested.

"Or some kind of forest sprite." Sam added.

"Or an actual possessed tree."

Pushing out an exhausted breath and running a hand through his hair, Sam huffed again. "This is gonna suck."

* * *

 **AN:** This entire fic is completely finished, and I am off every day this week, so I plan to post one chapter per day! There are three total, so hopefully this'll be done by Wednesday, but if not it'll be before the end of this week. And since the chapters are complete, you know what that means!

 **Sneak Peek:** "Dean hated the guys with tempers. They were always the ones that made a scene, and scene-making was never good."

In short, Dean goes researching and hustling in the local bar, and things get- a bit out of hand. Planning on posting this tomorrow, so be on the lookout, but drop a review if you're enjoying so far, and hopefully I shall see y'all tomorrow!


	2. Then We All Go Blind

**AN:** Hurt!Dean in this chapter. You're welcome, Dean girls ;) And as an FYI for anyone interested, I will be attending Colossal-Con this June! I will have three different cosplays, one will be Lucifer from _Supernatural_ , the next will be Meg from _Supernatural_ , and then Pacifica Northwest from _Gravity_ _Falls_. I plan to wear a little nametag somewhere on my person so if anyone out there wants to say 'hi' to me in real life they'll know who I am. I won't be selling stuff or nothing, I just wanted to let y'all know that I'll be there!

* * *

This time, Dean had promised to earn them some money _and_ do some research for the case. He'd figured why not kill two birds with one stone? And what better way to do that than by asking the bar-flies about the killings, while simultaneously hustling them out of their probably-not-all-that-hard earned cash.

Currently, he was in the midst of his third game, having already willingly lost a few hundred bucks, but he knew he'd be winning it back soon enough.

"Think all your questions are throwing off your game, boy." The guy chortled, lips pulled wide as his yellow and crooked teeth gleamed under the dim bar lights.

"Shut up, I'm fine." Dean grumbled, keeping up the facade. He positioned his cue in front of the white ball, hitting it expertly to ensure that it wouldn't knock any of the others into a hole. He gave a huff, for show, of course. "You were saying something about Marty."

"Yeah, seen him in here from time to time. Seemed like nice enough of a guy, not sure why anyone'd want to kill him."

"You know any of the other victims?" Dean asked.

"Hey, you don't wanna ask around too much, otherwise you're gonna be next." He laughed at his own joke, because yeah, death is just freaking hilarious.

"What, you people gonna feed me to the tree?" Dean asked, forcing himself to hold his tongue from calling this douche-bag out.

"What, you really believe the crap?" He gave a snort. "You ask the right people, and they'll tell you that those kids had it coming."

Dean paused. Things were starting to get interesting. "What do you mean?"

"My daughter knew some of the kids that died. Sounded like a bunch of dicks, always picking on that poor Amanda girl."

"Wait, the one who was out there with them?"

"Guess so." He hit the last of the striped balls into the hole, only the eight ball remaining now.

"Amanda have any relation to the other victims?"

"Do I look like her dad to you? Go find someone who cares."

With a final hit, the guy had won the game yet again. "You had enough yet?" He asked.

As much as Dean wanted to get back to the hotel room and tell Sam everything he'd just learned, he wanted to knock this asshole down a few pegs first. "C'mon, man, just one more game. Please, I'm getting better." Dean whined in a pleading tone.

"Tell you what. Up the price, and you got a deal."

Hook, line, and sinker. "You're on."

They reset the game, and the guy allowed Dean to take the first shot. With one hit, the guy paled, and then slowly began to put together what was happening.

"Wh-what was that?" He stammered, a frown beginning to form on his face.

Dean faked innocence. "Lucky shot I guess." He took another shot, sinking two balls at once, serving only to increase the guy's disbelief.

"Hey, you trying to hustle me, boy?!" The guy's voice had started rising in fury.

"What, can't handle getting beat by a rookie?" Dean managed to hold back his grin. "I swear, man, just got a good few shots in." Dean hated the guys with tempers. They were always the ones that made a scene, and scene-making was never good. He purposefully missed the next shot before the guy blew his top.

Looking slightly relieved, the guy started taking his shots. Dean watched nervously as he sunk hit, after hit, after hit. Sammy would kill him if he lost all their cash. Thankfully, the guy finally missed again, so Dean took his time with ensuring his win. He made his final shot, and then smiled in victory. He started to grab his well-earned cash, but then the dude's hand snaked around his wrist.

Guess this was gonna end badly after all.

"Problem?" Dean asked with a semi-asshole-istic grin.

"You-you swindled me, you son of a bitch!" He shouted.

"Listen, buddy. You outta cut your losses, and let me go before it gets ugly."

"Oh, I'll show you ugly."

What the hell kind of a comeback was th-

 _WHACK._

Dean _heard_ rather than felt the impact of the fist on his jaw, at least to start. Hey, if this guy wanted a fight, fine. He'd get a fight.

"Last chance, man." Dean warned. "Walk away now before you get yourself hurt."

Well that only seemed to make the guy _more_ pissed. He swung again, but Dean easily dodged it, leaving the guy to awkwardly stumble forwards when his blow hit nothing but air. Just as Dean was beginning to enjoy the sight of the guy making a fool out of himself, two arms roughly grabbed his own, pinning them back.

Oh great. The asshole had friends. The main guy nailed a blow to Dean's gut, pushing all the air out of him in a wheezing grunt. A second landed on his face before he managed to kick back, causing the second guy to release him as Dean's foot came into contact with his knee.

Didn't the bartender usually keep this stuff from happening? Dean cast a glance to the bar to see the bartender- oh, you gotta be freaking kidding. He was taking _bets_ on the fight. Tis town was even sleazier than he thought. Now he was just hoping that everybody had bet on the wrong guy so that they would lose all their dirty money.

Dean looked back to the fight just in time to see a pool cue heading directly for his face, but not in time enough to stop it. The shock mixed with the force behind it knocked him to the ground. Instead of getting back up, Dean chose to stay down, and suppressed an eye roll when he heard the small crowd cheer at his alleged defeat. He then heard the guy chuckling at what he believed to be his victory. He leaned over Dean, and started to go through his pockets, and that's when Dean shot back up and heat-butted him. _Hard._

The guy staggered back, hand gently touching his already heavily bleeding nose. "You son of a bitch!"

Dean tried not to laugh at how funny the guy sounded with a blood filled nose. "You had enough yet?" He asked, grinning.

Like a raging bull, the guy blindly charged at Dean. All ire, no finesse. Dean merely stepped out of the way, and then kicked the guy in the back, and he fell.

His partner probably could have snuck up on Dean, but his primal yell gave him away. Dean quickly spun around, grabbing him by his shoulders, and tossed him onto his fallen partner. The two groaned in pain while Dean calmly walked back to the pool table, and plucked his well-deserved cash off of it. He looked back to the now mostly disappointed crowd that had stood passively by.

"Really appreciate the help guys." He scolded them. A few cast their eyes down in guilt as he approached. He slapped a couple bills down to pay for his drinks, and then he was off.

After he climbed inside his beloved Impala, he eyed himself in the mirror. There was an already purpling bruise on his jaw, along with a long stripe down his face from the pool cue. It still stung quite a bit, but, undoubtedly, he'd had way worse. Sammy was still probably gonna freak out when he saw him though, but really, he was fine. He revved up the engine, and headed back to the hotel. When he made it to their room, he wasn't surprised to see Sam sitting at the table, which was now littered with books and his laptop, and Sam had a blatantly frustrated expression.

"Research finding you squat?" Dean asked.

Not looking up just yet, Sam huffed. "Just the opposite actually. You look up 'evil trees' and all you get is a bunch of tattoos people get to look tough, the Whomping Willow from _Harry Potter,_ but mostly just a bunch of stupid, fantasy video-game lore, but not a single damn thing on actual evil trees."

Dean was about to tell him his good news, but apparently Sam wasn't done complaining.

"So I tried looking for ghosts, but there's nothing! No suspicious deaths in there before now, so I tried to find people that had gone missing."

"Sam-"

"And that also got me a big, heaping pile of nothing. So then I tried looking up forests sprites, but that just took me to a bunch of kids' cartoon shows." He huffed again, running a hand through his hair. "I swear, Dean, I've been trying, but-" He at last looked up at his brother, and stopped midsentence. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"Bar fight. I'm fine. Sam, liste-"

"How'd you get in a bar fight?"

For the love of God, kid... "Guy wasn't too happy about being hustled. But before the fight, I was talking to him about-"

"Hang on, I'm gonna grab you some ice. What's that big stripe from?"

Dammit, Sam, just shut up already. "Got me with a pool cue. Can you stop-"

"Here's the ice." Sam tossed the bag to him. "Is he gonna come back for-"

"Sam, it's a witch, and I think I know who it is!" Dean finally managed to blurt out.

Sam frowned. "What?"

Dean huffed. "The guy I was hustling in the bar, I was asking him beforehand about the victims. Apparently, the teenagers that were supposedly with Amanda were real dicks to her. So I started doubting her story about hanging out with her besties in the woods."

"She-she's just a kid, Dean."

"Just saying, we've seen kids do a lotta messed up stuff before. 'Specially if she's screwing around with magic. That crap'll mess with your head."

"What makes you think it's Amanda?" Sam asked.

"First off, she lied about being friends with them, so you gotta wonder what she was doing with them. Second, all these people are getting killed, but she somehow manages to get away? Not to mention how defensive she got when we started asking if she saw anyone else in the forest."

"So- what do you suggest we do now?"

"I say we wait for her to go to school, and then search her house for anything witchy."

"Alright, let's say we find something. Then what, Dean?"

"What do you mean?"

"She's a person, we can't exactly take her out just like any other monster."

"She's slaughtering people, Sam."

"She's a _kid,_ Dean! We can't just kill her!"

"She doesn't seem to have any problem with murder, why should we?"

"Look, I'm not saying that what she's doing is right, far from it. But she's still a person. She got involved with some stuff that she shouldn't have, but I know that deep down there's gotta be some good left in her."

Oh, c'mon, Sammy, not this again. Every time Sam played the 'good deep down' card, it left Dean with now choice but to cave. "Fine. What's your plan?"

Visibly relieved, Sam suggested, "We still outta check her house out, just to make sure that she's our witch."

Nodding, Dean agreed. "Sounds good to me."

"It's pretty late right now, though. Let's get some rest and we'll investigate tomorrow morning. It'll give your face some time to look less disgusting." Sam added with a grin.

"Hey, my face is awesome!" Dean countered.

"Good night, Dean."

"Night, Sam." And with that, both brothers were off to bed, readying themselves for another day in the hell that a hunter called life.

* * *

 **AN:** Next chapter's even longer than this one, and it's probably my favourite one. Last chapters in case-fics usually are the best, just where all the good stuff is. And I'm sure you're expecting it at this point, so here's your-

 **Sneak Peek:** "He'd been forced into the world of demons and monsters since he was six months old. Why anyone would willingly fall into that life was beyond him."

I've got a mostly free day tomorrow, so maybe this'll be up before the new episode airs. Until then, drop a review if y'all are enjoying! I love to see all you following and would love to hear from you!


	3. Is It Hard to See?

**AN:** Who's ready for a plot-twist? Mmm, my favourite. Actually, my favourite is Hurt!Sam, and this chapter's got plenty of that, not to mention hurt!Dean as well. It's a win-win for everybody! And I'm only a Latin II student, so if I mess up the translations, oh well, not that many people are gonna bother to look it up anyway. Just focus on the hurt. The glorious, glorious hurt.

* * *

They weren't really in any kind of hurry, so Sam had decided to let Dean sleep in. Sam was well-aware if just how exhausted he really was, and he didn't mean physically. John's death had affected them both in different ways, but Dean's method of coping by not saying a damn thing wasn't doing anyone any good whatsoever.

This particular hunt had Sam terrified. He could only pray that a teenager wasn't really behind this. He'd been forced into the world of demons and monsters since he was six months old. Why anybody would willingly fall into that life was beyond him. There were times where he would've done anything not to be a hunter, but some kid had made the decision to throw herself into that hell? He just couldn't understand.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard Dean's awakening groan.

"Morning." Sam greeted.

"Where's th'coffee?" Dean grumbled.

Sam handed him a cup. "Get ready, we should head to Amanda's house pretty soon."

"Time's it?"

"Eleven."

"Well damn." Dean rubbed his eyes with one hand. "Think her parents are gone too?"

"We can make sure when we get there. Stake the place out for a few minutes, and then if it looks clear, we can go in."

"Sounds good to me. Gimme ten minutes, I gotta shower."

"I can tell." Sam said, smirking.

"Oh, shut up, bitch." Dean grumbled as he headed into the bathroom.

"Jerk." Sam called after him.

Roughly ten minutes later, the brothers were off to Amanda's house. After watching it for a while, they determined that it was empty, and then headed inside.

"You search her room, I'll do the basement." Sam told Dean.

"I don't wanna go through a teenage girl's room!" Dean whined.

Sam rolled his eyes. "If we're lucky and we're wrong about Amanda then there won't be anything to find in there." Sam said hopefully. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

"Will do." Dean agreed, and then they went their separate ways.

What was it about basements that made them perpetually frightening? Seriously, did every murderer just need a creepy basement in order to be successfully scary? But Sam had volunteered to go down there because Dean had already hurt himself enough on this hunt, he deserved a break. Best case scenario though, was that neither of them found anything.

It was significantly colder down there, enough to cause Sam's arms to prickle with goosebumps, even with his numerous layers on. He began to scan the room, trying to find any sign, or lack thereof, of witch-craft. His heart nearly sank when he finally caught sight of the altar. He approached it with a sigh, and picked up the book in the centre of it. It had the typical dark and semi-mystifying cover. But it was actually just was more cliché than typical.

"Dammit, Amanda..." Sam whispered in disappointment under his breath.

"Wrong." Said a voice from behind him.

Sam whipped around, and standing before him was not Amanda, which left only... "Mrs. Ficus?"

"Molly." She corrected with a grin. "I see you found my altar. Good thing I set up that alarm spell that tells me whenever someone breaks into my house."

Sam swallowed. "You-you've been the behind all this, haven't you?"

"Little bit." Molly chuckled.

"Why?" Sam was attempting to distract her, and then he could try to destroy the book. Without it, Molly would be powerless. Or at the very least, he was hoping to make enough commotion to draw Dean's attention.

"Those teenagers were hurting my baby girl. They needed to be taught a lesson."

"How can they learn anything if they're dead?" Sam countered.

"Kids like that have no place in the world. So I made sure they didn't live to figure that out on their own."

"And what about Kennedy?"

"That was simply a test." Molly said passively.

"Charles?"

"He skimped Amanda on babysitting money."

"Marty?"

"Saw too much."

Sam shook his head in disgust. "You're a monster."

"What, for protecting my little girl? You've clearly never had to drive your depressed and overdosed child to the E.R because of what other kids did to her! They almost made me lose Amanda!"

"But what you did to those kids is putting their families through the exact same thing. And now you've taught Amanda that it's okay to kill people!"

"She'll do anything to keep me safe. She was more than willing to go along with my little story about her being in the woods with them. She's such a great little actress, and such a good girl."

"You're controlling your daughter! Take it from someone who's been there. Manipulating your kid to make them like you is gonna get you nothing but a kid so badly wanting to get away from you that they're gonna turn their backs on you and never come back!"

...

Okay that-that got a little more personal than he had planned...

"You don't know anything!" Molly snapped. "You have no idea how this feels!" Now she was just flat out angry. She raised her hands as if she was about to cast a spell, but that's when Dean came charging down the steps. He instantly figured out what was going on, and he dove for the altar.

"Mane!" Molly shouted those Latin words, and both brothers flew to the wall. "Not alone then, I see. After you two are gone, I'll never have to worry about anyone trying to hurt my daughter again."

"Look, Molly." Sam tried the sympathy card one last time. "You don't have to do this. Burn the book now, and we'll leave you and Amanda alone forever. No one else has to die."

"Sam!" Dean hissed through his teeth.

"Shut up, Dean." Sam snapped. "Molly, please. Just let us go."

Molly gave a fleeting look of compassion, and for a moment, Sam thought she was changing her mind. But then, that wicked expression returned, and all she said was, "No."

And then she snapped her fingers, and both brothers were unconscious.

* * *

Sam was pretty sure he heard Dean calling his name, but his brain was all too muddy for him to have any clue as to what the hell was happening. He brought up his hand to his head. Well- he _tried_ to anyway, but there was something obstructing him from doing so. Confused, he opened his eyes to see some brown rope curled around his wrists. No- it felt too hard to be rope. It felt more like-

Wood.

Crap.

The _tree!_

Instantly awake, Sam started to struggle.

"Ah, there you are." Molly cooed, an excited grin countering her sickeningly sweet tone. "We've been waiting for you."

"Is this really what you want?" Sam asked, still trying to squirm out of the tree's hold. "You really want Amanda to turn into this?" His head snapped to the side as a stray branch backhanded him. Did he just get bitch slapped by a tree?

"I want Amanda to not be afraid... Not like I was. My husband, God knows why I ever married him, controlled both Amanda and I, and I knew that until he drunk himself to death that we would never be free. Twenty years I put up with his abuse, but then- someone made me an offer. Said I could be powerful enough to get rid of him forever, and he'd never hurt me or my baby again."

"I-I'm sorry that happened to you." Sam said with sincerity. "But what you're teaching Amada is wrong. You're turning her into a killer!"

Molly shook her head, but whether she was being stubborn or determined was unclear. "No. After you boys, it's over. We'll be free forever."

Fear swamped Sam's gut, and instinct pushed him to keep struggling. Then, worry for his brother kicked in, and he cast a glance over to Dean. He was relieved to see that Dean had managed to hold onto his knife, and had started cutting through the branch that had curled around his chest, binding his arms to it. If Dean was trying to break free, Sam knew he had to keep Molly busy.

"Really?" He asked, quickly shifting his tone from sympathetic to condescending. "What happens when people come looking for me and my brother? You gonna kill them too?"

Molly's fists clenched. "If I have to."

"And what if they make the same mistake we did? They think that Amanda's the one who killed all those people? And then when they're a lot less forgiving than us-"

"Sam..." Dean warned, catching into that stupid stunt Sam was trying to pull. Almost through the branch!

"They're not gonna look for an excuse to save her," Sam continued anyway. "Or try to reason with her. You know what they're gonna do?"

Face reddening with rage, Molly remained quiet, just _daring_ Sam to finish that thought.

"They'll kill her."

"Shut up!" Molly screeched. She raised her hands. "Occidere pueram; quam tarderrime!"

Sam instantly felt more coils of branches encircle him, two per arm and leg, and then he was hoisted into the air. One branch had a particularly punishing hold around broken hand, threatening to crack the cast. One curled around his throat just in time for him to hear a branch snap. He whipped his head over to Dean to see that he had broken free from the tree's grasp. He was about to feel relieved, but then the branch curled around his casted wrist tightened brusquely and _painfully,_ so he couldn't keep himself from letting out a small shout.

Dean managed to break free and tackle Molly, snatching the book from her hand, and he was about to destroy the damn thing, right up until he heard Sammy cry out in pain.

"Let him go, Molly!" Dean shouted.

"I don't think so. The tree's already been given the order to kill him as slowly as possible. Give me back the book, and I'll make it quick instead."

"Dean, burn i- mmph!" Sam attempted to yell, but the tree had its own plans apparently, and wrapped another branch around his mouth, effectively gaging him.

"Sam!" Dean shouted in panic. He was worried as hell for his little brother, but he knew that the longer he waited, the longer that that damn tree was going to hurt Sam. He'd quickly made his decision, knowing that Molly had had enough chances to stop, and now the only way to get her to for sure was to burn the book. He hurriedly took out his lighter, and set the thing ablaze.

"No!" Molly shrieked, but it was too late, the book was already slowly being consumed by flames.

Small problem though. It was burning _way_ too damn slowly. The spell wasn't going to wear off until the whole thing was nothing but a pile of ash, which meant that the tree was still hurting Sam.

Sam watched in relief as Dean lit the book, but the tree's hold on him remained unwavering. In fact, it was still steadily increasing, especially the one around his broken hand. He snapped his eyes shut, trying to hold back a cry of pain, but ended up letting out a whimper through his gagged mouth. He was alright for a moment longer, until there was a _crack,_ signifying that his cast had just broken. His eyes flew open, and before he could stop himself, he was screaming.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled again. He started to run towards his brother to free him, only to get side-lined by that crazy bitch. He quickly tossed the book out of her reach, and then focused on keeping her down while it burned. She may have been a total nut-job, but she was easily flipped over, and Dean pinned her down.

Now, normally, Dean had a policy about hitting girls, but this bitch needed to stay the hell down if she wanted to stay alive. He raised his fist to knock her down, but then he felt a stripe smack down across his back. The pain took him by surprise, and he let out a small shout. The pain came back again as the branch laid another strike on his back. Then another, and another, and another. He was grateful for all his layers of clothes to minimally soften the blows, but son of a _bitch,_ it still hurt like hell!

Dean fought to maintain his hold on Molly as the tree continued to whip him, and Sammy's muffled screaming wasn't really doing much for his concentration. He heard a small whimper, and then Sam went completely silent, and Dean figured he had passed out from the pain. Dean concluded that it was a good thing. At least now the kid didn't have to suffer anymore.

After what felt like too damn long, the whips to Dean's back stopped, and he heard a _thud._ He looked behind him to see Sam's body had fallen to the forest floor, and the tree had ceased all movements.

Finally.

"No!" Molly cried in despair, throwing Dean off of her as she went to the pile of ashes that was once her source of power. "Y-you!" She whipped her head to glare at Dean, who had gone to Sam's side to drape his unconscious brother's arm over his own shoulder.

"Listen here, Moly. If it wasn't for my brother's big-ass heart, you'd be dead right now. You killed people, and if it were up to me, I would've burned your ass along with the book. Sam here thinks that you deserve another chance, and so help me God, if you prove him wrong, I will hunt you down all over again, and kill you."

Molly's scowl soon faded, but Dean still saw the hatred brewing in her eyes. He had a feeling that one day he'd have to show back up and finish the job.

But right now, he had a little brother that needed a trip to the hospital. With Sam still draped over his shoulder, Dean headed to the Impala, looking forward to getting a few damn seconds to rest.

Crazy soccer-mom witch using trees to kill people. Yeah, this was one for the books.

* * *

 **AN:** I hope all of you caught the dumb, little joke with the witch's name. The Latin word for witch is 'maleficus.' Molly Ficus? Get it? I happen to think I'm hilarious. In all seriousness, I hope you enjoyed this fic! Who knows, maybe there's a sequel coming, but I've already got another fic in the works. This one will be different from all my others considering that it will be a reader-insert. Not your ordinary kind though, and it deals with some very sensitive issues. It's called _And We'll Heal the Scars,_ so be on the lookout for it. Until next time, carry on, my wayward sons!


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